What gives me life.

This is blogpost number three. And by that I mean that I have started this same post three different times. The first time I started writing it, I was on fall break. Sitting in my house, luckily with nothing to do, but I couldn’t think of a coherent post to actually publish on the Internet. The second blogpost, I am going to be honest, I probably fell asleep during. I just couldn’t get my words out and eventually got stuck and gave up. So, I’m going to finish this one. I hope.

Last time I wrote, I had just gotten back from a crazy hurricane break. Tabb was just starting school, and things were just getting into a slight swing. Now, the semester is winding down, YoungLife at Tabb is in full throttle, and life is moving way, way, way too quickly. I could never sum up what has happened, what I’ve learned, and how I’ve grown in one blogpost. And that is completely my fault, not writing for two months. It was my intention to write on here constantly, but then life came. And if there is one thing I have learned, it is that when life comes- don’t step back and ignore it. I kept wanting to write that I am sorry that I’ve been such a bad blogger but, for lack of a better phrase, I am sorry I’m not sorry. Life came and it was bigger than my blog, and that is my only excuse for not being on here.

I’ve felt more life this year that I’ve ever felt. I don’t ever think of life as boring, and I don’t usually slump in misery for days. But I’ve been stumped this year with the amount of life I’ve felt. What the heck does she mean by life? Well, I’ll tell you. This year, in particular, I’ve realized what it is to live as if my life isn’t mine. And it took some hard realization to actually realize that this was a problem in my life. I found myself on anxious rants about how I didn’t want to do stuff that made me uncomfortable. How I couldn’t do everything because I needed time to relax. How I was content where I was and did not want to move. A realization left my anxious heart right in it’s confused heart when God made it clear that this life is not my own, it never was, and it never will be. I can hear that phrase over and over again and pump my fist that I get to live like that. But when on earth was I actually going to live like that? When my words became actions, that is when it all made sense. I’m in no means saying I live my life selflessly every day. In fact, I still live for myself everyday. But, there comes a time when everyone has to grow up, put their big girl pants on, and do stuff that’s going to exhaust them. We’ve all got to do the things that are going to be uncomfortable, things that will seem fruitless and dumb. We’re going to have to step out and step back to realize where we get life, and how to live in the most life-giving way.

What did this mean in terms of this year? Well, in a big way, this changed my perception on contact work. In the beginning of the year, it was extremely uncomfortable for me to go to the school. I raged that it was a waste of my time, that kids were already gone before I could even walk in the school, and that I didn’t have time to drive a total of 30 minutes just to wave at a kid whose name I may or may not remember. Then, a wise soul said to me, get over yourself and just do it. “You have to.” She said, when there is an option of going or not going, count not going out. At first, I was mildly angry that this was the truth. Angry because I knew I would have to stop being such a baby and just go to the school throughout the week, even if it meant I only saw one kid. Then, the you have to turned into a this is a freaking privilege, why wouldn’t you? I get the privilege of entering the halls of Tabb. I get the privilege of knowing and loving high school girls. This is not a task, or a volunteer service: this is life. That I may consider it a privilege that I get to help high schoolers understand where to actually find life. That is why I needed to get over myself. Why do I have to show up? Because showing up is the gospel. Above all, showing up is what is different about YoungLife leaders. We show up when others don’t, and we show up when friends don’t expect us to. That’s what makes us disciples of the ultimate truth: showing up with Jesus Christ in our hearts. By all means, I never did not want to go to the school to see and love my friends at Tabb. I just didn’t want to be asked the question “what are you doing here.” I didn’t want to be uncomfortable and possibly forget that girls name. I didn’t want to get looked at or make weird comments on accident to the new girl in the halls. But, where is the fruit in staying away from being uncomfortable? Answer: no where. I had to get over myself and realize that the only way I was  going to share Jesus inside those school walls is by showing up. And by showing up, I was going to be uncomfortable. For about a millisecond. Seriously, what was wrong with me! I was such a baby. I am called to be uncomfortable. God will carry me. How come I couldn’t see that truth? I was blind to it, but now I am not. And going to the highschool, meeting new girls, getting excited hugs from ones I already know, and even getting to explain that I am just there hanging out, it all brings me life. High school kids bring me life. They take it out of me, but in that I can be refilled even more, over and over again. They bring me life that I wouldn’t have gotten by just sitting around and waiting to meet people when the time wasn’t uncomfortable. I want to be present. I want to be real. I want to be different. And the only way I can do that in the high school is forgetting about myself, and walking in there with a heart of my Fathers.

You know what else is weird about this year? I get up every morning… early. Clearly something is changing in my heart if that last statement is true. This is coming from the girl who complained about having an 11am class last semester. All this is coming from the girl who used to plan her day around getting up late. Nope, not anymore. I rise while my apartment is still dark inside. I plug in my soft, white Christmas lights around my room. I make my bed. I turn on the shower (because it takes about 10 minutes to heat up) and I pop in a coffee pod into the keurug. I shower, get dressed, and usually listen to some worship tunes throughout it to get my heart set right. Then, the biggest gift of my day. Time alone with Jesus. Quiet, calm, personal time in the word where I am the only one around. I know, I should’ve made this way more of a habit before. I would attempt to read my bible every day last year, but usually after lunch or in a free break between classes. Never early, no way Jose. But now, I look forward to this part of my day more than anything. That I can win myself to Jesus first. That is what brings me life. That every morning fulfills the promise of bringing me new mercies and word of His unfailing love, that is what brings me life. Its my time, sometimes the only part of my crazy day that is just for me. And I’ve learned so much from it. I’ve seen changes in my heart that I didn’t even know needed to change. I’ve seen a difference when I don’t get into the word and when I do. My heart is protected from the negativity and evil of this world when I do this before anything. I am calm, I am focused. Again, I’m not perfect, but I get to follow a perfect God who, by having this time every morning, I get to gaze longingly at, wishing that He would perfect me to be more like His son. I love this time; it is literally what gives me life (with the assistant of the coffee I mentioned). I have found my life to be so much more giving when I have this time before anything else. Understanding the promises that God has for me that day, before anything in the day has happened, that is what brings me life. Taking wisdom and truth from the person who gave His life up for me to find life, that is what brings me life. And getting time, alone, before others awake, to journal out my struggles, excitements, prayers and fears: that is what brings me life. I have seen it with not only my own eyes but I have seen it with my heart. Time with to understand, know, talk to, and listen to Jesus is the only thing that will give me the life I am looking for in that day.

I am also learning how much life I can find by being present. I’m not exactly good at this yet, but it is something I am working on. On my 20^th (weird) birthday, I spent some time reading through my old notebook from last year. I was so torn only a year ago. Broken in many places and working through a painful part of my sanctification, I was longing to be somewhere else. And as much as remembering that pain breaks my heart again, it also creates a surpassing joy about where I am now. And where I am now is not necessarily just my state of content with being at CNU. Where I am now is where my heart is, how I’ve moved on and grown, and how I’m learning such different, bigger things only in a year. I’m learning how to be here, and I prayed for so long that I would understand how to be here. I never want to be completely content, because if I was completely content, my faith would be stagnant and my life would be still. But, I am learning how to be where I am, in my relationship with God and physically at CNU. I know I’ve written about it may a times before, but clearly it is clear that it is just a reoccurring theme in my story. I yearn to be available and not thinking about where I could be or what I could be doing. I want to be thinking about what is going on in the moment, not how I could be somewhere else or doing something else. I’m not the best at this, but I’m working on it. One way I can see this working out is that I’ve been able to stay at CNU and only go home for fall break. Last time I went home about five times first semester. This time? Twice. That is ludicrous for this homebody mamas girl, but it happened. And it has allowed me to be way more content with being present here. It has also allowed me to see that if God is going to change my location, He is going to  change my heart to be in that location. That my desires become His, and His desires become mine. I’ve been carried through that truth. I’ve learned what that means by being present. I’ve found so much more life by being completely where I am, spiritually and physically.

            I don’t even know if those made sense. It doesn’t even sum up my year so far, or do it justice. I guess that is the penalty I have to pay for not keeping my blog updated. But, I guess above all, this is what I want to say: It is my privilege to live my life. Nothing I am doing is being forced on me. Right now, I do not have to do anything that doesn’t give me life. I hope, for as long as I live, that last statement stays true. I am given life because someone else gave up His life for me. Someone planed my life out to be fruitful and giving, not dead and boring. Someone, my heavenly Father, knew I’d understand how to live a giving-life with Him, and knew that it would be quite the journey to get there. I don’t care what the journeys looked like right now. How many times I’ve thought I could find life doing other things. All I care about is that right now, in this present moment, I am experiencing the most life. Daily. And I can owe that all to the One above me, giving me the daily gift of a life with Him. 

Carried.

            Warning: the coherency of this post could be off. Despite the fact that I, for the first time in 3 weeks, got 9 hours of sleep last night, I am still a little tired college girl waiting for my laundry to be done on the big blue couch in our apartment’s living room. Last time I wrote I was still immersed in the short days and long nights of the sweet sweet summer. But now, as you probably have assumed, I am back to my becoming-more-like-home-home in good ol’ Newport News, VA, and ain’t it sweet.

            I can’t get over this summer. How much of a blessing it was, the sweet trips God planned for me to take, and the lessons he planned for me to learn on the way. It was just… such a gift. It’s hard for me to even fathom that I got to experience such an extended time of pure sweetness. Everything was just so perfectly timed, but duh- He does that for me every day. I love that He wanted me right where I was and He could teach me and give me so much in every place I got to go. It just makes me want to fist-pump just thinking about it. I love that I would become so at peace about moving onto the next thing this summer. I love that plans fell into place like a puzzle, trips just missing overlapping by a day in-between. And I love knowing that if it had been up to me, I couldn’t have dared planned a summer so perfect and giving, and clearly my four months away from home were planned by the ultimate planner. And clearly, He carried me through those times so I could fix my eyes above and not in front, to clearly see the beauty of the now.

            So, summer ended. And that is never a very happy thing to say. But this time, for once, I was ready. Weird, me, the homebody girl ready to leave home? I mean, of course I wasn’t ready to leave my parents- or my cat- but I was ready for the next one, a theme of my summer, and hopefully my life. Being one of the last ones to leave made leaving not as hard. And although my heartstrings pulled tight when saying goodbye to the people I spent the most time with, I knew that I would be able to pick up those friendships right where I left them when we returned once again. Anyways, I packed up and shipped off, and the butterflies and sleepless night before I leave sleep didn’t happen, which told me that I never need to be anxious about anything because He’ll carry me along no matter what.

            I filled my walls with pictures of those people I wont see for a while and those I see everyday. With verses that carry me through the day and with snippets of my life. Most of the pictures are from my summer and last year, so when the memories of those times get rusty in my head, the pictures will still be as bright as the day I took them. I like looking at the people I love most whenever I’m in there, a constant reminder of His unending and unfailing blessings and promises in my life. We got the rest of our apartment situated and figured out and were finally settled when Irene came crashing down.

            By crashing down I mean crashing my Internet with the CNUalerts and weather reports and emails about the potential monster coming our way. So, as they should’ve, CNU evacuated school for a few days and before the night was over, I was out of there. The sense of adventure in me (not known for my adventurous side so I don’t know what got into me!) kicked in as the feeling of angst that I wouldn’t get to be at my school for the first weekend faded. And boy, was it an adventure. With a 24 hour time period of some of the craziest times, including a huge dance party resulting in a potential ankle breaking of a friend, I cant even recap or tell the stories without hurting myself laughing. I just know God was up there laughing, too, knowing how we were going to all tell the stories from that weekend for years to come. And as the storm grew closer, the southern-coast girl in me got anxious and fleeted home from adventure, to be in the safe abode of my northern Virginia home. And of course, my friends tagged along, to add onto the stories and brave out the hurricane that was actually only a thunderstorm in NoVA with me. As much as I hated to leave this place a week after I got here, I needed that hurricane break. I needed a crazy 24 hours with copious amounts of stories and laughs. And I needed to go back home, to be able to rest and to be reminded that it was okay to leave. So, despite my initial angst and worries about leaving NN a week after I got there, He carried me all across Virginia to put me right where I needed to be when I needed to be there to fully soak in His glorious plan.

            School is back in full swing, now. Not only my school work, but now Tabb is back in session, meaning my schedule just filled up and I get to go back to doing what I love- getting to be in high school girls lives. And what a privilege that is. My classes are great and my schedule is fitting after many hours of contemplation and rearranging during that blessing of add-drop time. Where I live? Oh, it’s the best. I’m in an apartment with some of my closest girl friends and on a hall with a lot of my closest friends here. It’s a great place to be, where I can both pour out and be filled up- come to find fun and come to find rest. It’s been such a blessing for the few weeks I’ve been here, I can only imagine the gift that it will have been by the end.

            And now I am finally here for good, hopefully not being evacuated. My biggest concern these past few weeks have been that I may get in a valley here at school after my spiritual mountaintops this summer. That I may end up in a dry spell or a stagnant time in my faith after such a high. And in that worry? Well, duh, He spoke truth. I had to step back to realize how He will carry me in my valleys if He has me in valleys. And He will carry me on the mountaintops when I’m on mountaintops. And He’ll carry me in the in-between, because that’s what He does. It’s His job, His salary- my life, His hours- 24/7, baby, and ain’t that sweet! All He wants is for me to follow in His footsteps and let Him carry me- that sometimes is the hardest part. But, I’m being carried whether I know it at the time or not, and the fact that God knows my heart, anyone’s heart, isn’t buff enough to carry the world on it, that’s comfort right there. No matter where this year is going to take me, what swerves or turns I will encounter in my path, what mountains and what valleys, I am most definitely not doing it alone. I’m carried by the Creator of the stars and the moon, and pushed along by the people He has provided for me along the way. And, incase you were wondering, the view from here, the mountaintop and the shoulders of my Father, it’s a great view; one I never want to lose sight of. 

The Island Life.

"I wanna sunbathe, in a place where I can feel His rays, with my arms out wide, so I can feel His glory."- Carly Faye

My travels are over. My running around with my head cut off during the 24-hours in between trips is over. My break, well, its almost over, but hopefully I can milk these last 12 days to feel like 20. What an insane summer for me. I usually spend a large amount of my summer sitting around at home, which isn’t bad, a little rest never hurt this busy body. But this summer, I was given a huge gift of 4 different trips, making my summer rich and beautiful and full of growth and rest. Clearly, they were gifts from God, because if you know me, you know im not a friend to travel. This home-body girl would be content staying put for months at a time. All the trips were so different. First, traveling to Saranac to work for a month. Then, to Emerald Isle, NC, with my family. Off to a wild and crazy week at Rockbridge with my YoungLife girls. Then, a beautiful exhale with a few of my closest girl friends to a seven mile island off the coast of Florida. I know I haven’t written about my family vacation or YoungLife camp, that can come later. I want to try to piece together the last 10 days while they are still fresh and vivid in my mind.

I had the privilege of going to this island last summer, too. With 14 of my closest friends that time. Girls and guys, with a 20 hour, 15-passenger van ride and a week of cloudy skies that provided much needed conversation and full life. It was great, the best way to send off my high school years. Then, came this year. My friend’s family owns a house on the island, which is why we get to keep going back. The house has one purpose: to be a house of blessing. We wanted to go back with the same group, but we felt it was better this year to take a different route. So, only 6 of my closest girlfriends flew (PTL) down this year for a 10 day adventure also known as girls week. We were blessed to be joined by two of our leaders from the youth group we were all involved in senior year fly down for our final days on the island. Their presence made the trip even richer and it was so great to have them there.

You see, this week was just so necessary. Each one of us had gone different ways this year. We colored the map of Virginia, Florida, South Carolina, Pennsylvania, and Utah and didn’t get to see each other but a few times this school year. We had kept in touch, but not the in-depth touch that we had with each other senior year.

The island is beautiful. There is really no way around not using that word. The house is facing the bay and a quick walk on a path from the back of the house through a swampy, green, vivid boardwalk to the crystal clear ocean. The trees seem to all be painted a vibrant green, and fish jump in and out of the bay day and night. The sunsets scream creation with bright orange streaks meeting baby blue skies. It’s hard not to see Gods artwork on this island. It is literally all around. You couldn’t even miss it if you were blind. You can hear the waves roaring from the bay, and the birds and bugs chirping during the night. He is all around and there is no way around that.

This island proves to be the perfect place to get away. There is no easy way to leave, to run away back into the busy life that glitters every street. You have to take a boat in and there are no cars or establishments. Once you get on the island, He sits you down in a real way and says “Stay for a while, my child, breathe in my presence.” And isn’t that a beautiful thing. With a group of girls that had been going a mile a minute all school year and summer, that is exactly what we needed. And with a group of sisters who had all grown through Him in huge, unexpected ways, that is exactly what we needed. And for a group of sisters who knows my heart, and my Fathers heart, that is exactly what I needed.

Days are short and nights are long. We didn’t set one alarm, and if we did, we sure couldn’t hear it. We woke up on our own pace, letting the sunlight seep through the French doors of the loft where we all (yes all 6 of us) slept every night. We would venture down to the beach and float in the light waves and baby blue waters, then lay and bask in the sunrays. We would talk, we would laugh, but most importantly, we would breathe. There was no schedule or pressure, nothing to do and nowhere to be, a concept that is foreign to us otherwise.

Every night we would go back out to the ocean after showering and napping. We would cast our eyes to the horizon to watch the flaming light show that our God painted for us each night. The oranges would start, and mix with the blues, to make the ending result of pinks and purple. It would have us silent then screaming, proclaiming our love for our Heavenly Father the artist painting a sky just for us to gaze in wonder and amazement at. Then, we would venture in and have a late dinner. Sit around one big table and talk about our lives, past and present. We would sit there with our food for what seemed like hours, listening to eachother, living together, being weird together and being real together. Then we would clear the table and bring out our beaten and scratched up bibles that traveled long and far with us this past year. We would all get into the word together, or just talk about real things. Like how much our Father loves us and how His presence is our good. And it was so raw and real and beautiful every night. The fellowship that I have between these girls is heaven-bound and I learn and understand so much just by listening to them.

The final night on the island was the most beautiful. I got to see two of my closest sisters get baptized in the light blue ocean under the bright orange sun-setting sky. I got to listen to them profess their faith, and remind us what it took to get them where they were. I got to see them get dunked into the ocean by our two leaders, two people who had aided in their journey to Him. I got to hug them, soaking wet, tears streaming down my eyes and ocean water dripping from my dress. And then, I got to run into the ocean with them, and everyone else, to bask in what seemed to be an extension of the sunset into the water. And to bask in what was obviously Gods treat to us, a wonderful display of redemption and beauty on that warm august night. We all went back and shared our stories, just to be remind of where are and where we’ve come from. It was a heart-wrenching time. Quick spurts of laughter broke the streams of tears from us, realizing how raw and broken we once were, and how full and whole we are now.

One thing sticks out between all of our stories: we were made to be in relationship with each other. We were made to find each other at the time we did. We were made to have the unforeseen fellowship we did. All of our stories lead to Him, and all of our stories intercept at one part: each other. It was comforting to be reminded how much we all have meant to one another. It was divine hearing everyone mention our group of friends in their story. Not one girl neglected to mention that we had been lead closer to Christ through our community, that we see Him in each other every day, and that we wouldn’t be where we are without each other.

We would end our night in different ways, movies, dance parties, star-gazing and golf-cart riding. No matter what we did, no matter how much sun I had gotten, I would always lay in my bed at night thanking my God for these girls. It makes me choke up to even begin to described how blessed I am to have these girls in my life. Girls that will not only watch me dance with Him, but who will dance along side me with Him, in the beautiful lives He has given us here on this earth, in full hope of the mysterious life left ahead of us. If there is one thing I know for certain about this world it is that He, my God, He has created us to be along side each other, searching for Him in the dark, and dancing with Him in the light. 

Best month yet.

I keep starting and stopping this post. It could be the fraction of me that wishes last month wasn’t over. It could also be the fraction of me who doesn’t remember how to properly “blog” or make cohesive sentences. Whatever fraction it is, it’s lacking. My muse is delayed and despite the endless amounts of stories and realizations I want to write, I’ve been staring at another blank document for a week now. I’m not sure how I am supposed to sum up a whole month of my life, especially a month like last month. I guess I’ll just start with where I was and what I was doing, and we can go from there.

I was in Saranac Lake, NY, a small town in the Adirondacks. Its quiet up there, but not when campers are around. It gets colder at night and the sun makes the lake sparkle during the day. Its always a three-sixty of luscious green trees and plants, making camp a continuous post-card picture that screams “here’s My masterpiece, I’ve made it just for you.” I worked in the kitchen from 6:30am till sometimes around 5pm. I loved every minute of it. The mornings were peaceful, with usually only 6 of us in there, making omelets or pancakes for three hours before campers devoured them. We would get to be in constant conversations, with the ones around us and with our Father, a great way to peacefully start the day. We would sit for too long at breakfast, deep in conversations or “questions of the day”, I’de down another glass of coffee then we would start on lunch. I worked with great people who loved the Lord and loved me through Him. They were willing to have fun and be serious at the same time, the best possible way to live. Lunch was always fun to make, the music would be louder and there would be another handful of people working with us. We’d dance more, but still talk a lot. That kitchen was a kitchen of miracles. I cant say that enough. Things would get done just on time when we weren’t sure about it all day. There would be just enough of something, or the time and resources to make more of it. Oh and my God, he’d put joy in our hearts to cut 60 pounds of tomatoes for over an hour. And he’d put joy in our hearts to be indoors in long pants and closed toe shoes for most of the day. He’d put a lot of joy in my heart to be with those people, too, building such a unique, strong community around His name. That joy was powerful, and somehow He blessed me with it in copious amounts every day.

I learned a lot in that kitchen, and some outside of it too. I had expectations on what I would learn or how I would grow, who I would meet and how I would change. But, we all know where expectations get you… no where. And I got a lot farther than I could’ve ever expected with them. I went into Summer Staff thinking about how much new stuff I would learn about God and my place in His world. However, no matter how many times I say it to myself its not enough, my God, He takes those expectations and blows them up. He gives me a different, better path, with more joy and peace than I could’ve planned. And that’s exactly what He did there.

My God reminded me that He had me there not to make friends. He had me there not to be seen or interact with campers. He had me there not to win people over or fall in love. He had me there to talk to me, daily, tell me how much He loved me, and remind me of why I do what I do. And the other things, the friends and such, those fell like flowers on the side of His path, making the whole thing much more pleasing and beautiful.

The biggest thing He told me was that the gospel is still for me. For me, Katie Randazzo. The gospel I’ve heard and told for some time is still for me every day. I think I forget that, especially as a Young Life leader. I wake up and pray that I can have the strength to tell others that “the gospel is for YOU!” I don’t wake up and thank my God that the gospel is for me, too. I realized how big the gospel is. That God could’ve done anything to this world when we turned our backs. He could’ve blown the whole thing up! Who knows! But nope, not my Father. He would take his own son, put him here on earth, let him share the truth about his Father, gather some people to walk with him, and be hated on by many others, then he would give up His own Sons life to make up for our mistakes. It makes my heart race just typing that. He gave up the only thing that he had as a real-life representation of Himself. For me. ME! Ah, its just so… big. And I can’t help but fall in love with Him over and over again when I think about it. It fuels me every day to think about that, that I am so loved and pursued that someone would sacrifice their own kin for my well being.

I learned a lot of other stuff to, and have a lot of other stuff I want to write about. But I don’t think anything gets bigger than re-learning the complexity of the gospel. Being brought back down to the real meaning and intent behind everything is just what I needed. I loved every day of being at Saranac. I can honestly say that. I met some people and made some friends who have already been huge blessings to me in numerous ways. I re-realized how big my Father is, and how great and glorious his daily path for me is. And, even at the crack of dawn, He still woke me up and said “dance with Me, I’ll show you where to put your feet.” (and He is the only possible way I could’ve gotten up at 5:30am for a month.) He reminded me of where I came from, and I thanked Him daily for where He put me. He showed me how beautiful His story was, and how far He goes to show that He loves us. And, of course, after being surrounded by His message and Young Life for a month straight, I was reminded of how much I was made for this. 

Funemployement.

I’m not going to lie, the idea of a white, blank document during the summertime is more daunting then the idea of a white, blank document the night before a paper is due. I run from the little blue W in the icon bar of my Mac. I fear the red squiggly line under words I type. I try not to come close to writing comprehensively for quite some time after the school year is over. Call me crazy, I’ll call myself a recovering type-a-holic, and that is why I’ve been steering far from writing this summer.

            But, I cant run fast (literally and figuratively) from the blank pages of this blog. It is much harder to keep up when it’s not a source of procrastination and distraction during class and library time. And it is much harder to keep up when you’ve got a world full of empty days and long, sleepless nights. Nonetheless, I am back. My hiatus from the blogging world is gone, and I will serve you one last post before my next adventure.

            Cheers to this summer, already longer than my last. It’s a bizarre thing to think that I’ve only had a two-month summer my whole life, and now its doubled in size for the next four years. Last fall, I had no idea what the heck I was going to do with all the time I had this summer. I was pretty certain I’d get a job at a small frozen yogurt shop, or I would intern somewhere shiny and fancy to make myself look good, or maybe even I’d just stay at home (as my mom wanted me to) and soak up freedom without falling into a pit of laze. But another path would be chosen for me, just as it always is, and I’d end up in a new world of opportunities and friends and I would love it, because that’s what my Father wants me to do, and my plans are like post-it notes compared to His big canvas.

            I would be accepted and assigned to do YoungLife summer staff in June. I wouldn’t get my first choice of job, but I would realize right away that I needed to be challenged, and that’s why He wanted me there. I would get assigned to this month and this camp with a handful of my already closest friends, including two of my very best girlfriends, one new, one old. And I would see it as a backbone, a built in support system, before entering the next network and system together. And I would wait, and wait, counting the months, thinking, “If only it was June yet… I cant wait for it to be June…” and then it would get to be may, and I’d say, “I’m leaving in {blank} weeks, write me a letter because that’s the only way I can communicate, yeah, it’ll be great, I’m excited, yes, I’m working as a morning cook, I know, I know, early mornings, it’ll be good though” over and over again as I catch up with the world I left behind while at school. He knew it was coming, I didn’t for sure, but He did. He knew all the “I woulds” before the “I dids” and I love that about Him. And just as the future turns to present, I will leave on Sunday for this adventure. I’ll be gone for a month in the luscious Adirondacks of New York at a YoungLife camp that was my first ever YoungLife camp back when I was a dweeby little sophomore in high school (I’m still a dweeb).

            I’ll return to Arlington in July. I’ll probably hate it for a few days. The after-camp withdrawal will be on the highest notch. But, I’ll get used to my surroundings, as I always do. And I’ll be back home for just a week, and then it is on to the next. I’ll go on a family vacation where I’ll probably sleep and vegetate, getting back into the normal summer swing of things after a month of hard work. I’ll return from that, unpack, wash, and pack, then drive back down to CNU where I’ll pick up Tabb girls and turn back around to go to Rockbridge for summer camp. This in itself is more exciting than summer staff, no matter how long I’ve waited to do that, this is what it is all about. I’ll get to lead, walk along side, encourage, and talk with these high school girls for a whole week at a magical camp. I’ll hopefully be able to tell them “yes, I get that, I’ve been there, and here is the way out” and see the magic of the Lords unfailing love unfold before my eyes, a sight that never gets old and always gets me sobbing towards the end of the week. I’ll return from that, a little more tired than when I left, with a few more friendship bracelets on my wrists and a few more stories in my heart. And I’ll get in the car one more time except this time, it wont be a car. It’ll be the big, gold fifteen passenger van of the Hagelins, where twelve of my closest friends and I were in last summer for 20 hours after graduation. Except, this time it’ll just be about six of my closest girl friends, catching up about our new worlds and lives and reliving our glory days of falling in and out of love and trouble. We’ll drive forever to a beautiful island with glorious sights that give us a small taste of the beauty above. And I’ll be given this time to reconnect with these girls who hold my heart close to theirs, we’ll fellowship and love. We’ll get the chills and we’ll get sunburned, and it’ll all be in the big beautiful picture our God is painting, each of us with a different color to make His art pleasing.

            In the mean time, I’ve been here. At home. In my big cozy house I’ve lived in for 15 years, with a family that loves me and makes me laugh. And a cat that has special needs. I’ve been here with the friends who have seen be through it all, and the friends I have just recently found. I’ve been here waking up in the afternoon and going to sleep in the morning, the only way that summer is supposed to be done. I’ve been here talking the future, saying “it’ll be weird when we’re all married, what are we going to do with our lives?” And I’ve been here, counting my blessings daily, trying to soak up this beautiful world that has been handed to me on a mostly silver platter by a God who shows me how to polish the spots that get rusty. I’ve been here thanking Him for all He has done, is doing, and will do, because its all so beautiful to me. And I’ve been here, quite possibly having and about to have the best summer of my life, living as a beloved daughter who has been given freedom and the best job of all: being funemployed.

home is wherever I'm with You.

I should just go ahead and write a book on my freshman year of college. The struggles, the change, the joy and the new. It couldn’t all be summed up into one genre. It’d have a genre of its own, because God didn’t create my story like anyone else’s. Mine is distinct and original, a painted path full of moments to see His glory and full of moments where I must lose myself in the bigger picture. And I would have it no other way. The moral of the story is that my year can be summed up in themes, smaller stories in my genre of life, and I guess this’ll be a good medium to write them out on. My first, major theme: home.

            The drive to school on August 14^th was a rollercoaster. Literally, because it was stop- and start traffic for five hours, and figuratively, because I’d feel fine about leaving one second and not sure where I was going the next. I know I said one thing “this is going to be my college, not my home.” I’ll learn and be alive here, but I wont live here. I’ll live at my home, in Arlington Virginia.

Moving is foreign to me. And change is not my forte. I’ve lived in the same house almost my whole life. I identify with the red brick exterior and comfy colorful interior. I’ve walked up these steps to lay my head down at night one too many nights. I’ve seen my home in the rearview mirror only to know that I’ll see it again in a few hours or days. This time though, there wasn’t a timestamp on my time away from home. Yeah, I saw it in my rearview mirror, but I also saw my backseat packed with my belongings, stuff to allow me to live comfortably in this new room I was traveling to.

            The home battle was a year-long battle for me. Some weeks, I wouldn’t even have time to think about my home. Some weeks, I would think too much about my home. And others, I’d feel like I was too in-between homes to know which was which. I always knew one thing, the place I called home, that was my home of 15 years in Arlington. I would correct my texts if I said that I was ever coming “home” to CNU. I’d always say back to school, back to my dorm, back to Newport News. Not home, no. My home was three hours away. I’d be giddy on my ride home every break, and cry on my way back to school. Its not that I didn’t like school, heck no, I loved it. It was that there was some form of internal conflict of living a double life or in this case, a double home.

            Home back home was just so easy and comfortable. It was familiar, it was simple, it did not challenge me daily, it did not take me out of my comfort zone. Home was always warm and quiet. Inviting and consistent. Home wasn’t new, home was old. And home was where I had left my heart.

            But of course, my God, oh He doesn’t settle for easy. He didn’t settle for knowing that I was relying on my easy home back home to get me through the time at school. He knew where I was supposed to be when I was supposed to be there. And that was not to be done with the in-between home attitude. In the beginning of last semester, I was homesick before I even went back to school. I missed it before I even left. On my drive back, I prayed desperately for a change of heart, for a new reason to be at school, for this in-between feeling to be covered with joy. And of course, the Big Man upstairs has got my back and my heart, and he answered that prayer quickly and forcefully.

            I stepped foot on my campus with a new feeling. I hadn’t yet accepted that this place was my home, but I knew this is where I was meant to be. I knew that I was called here for something bigger than I could do by myself. And I knew that an attitude change was in store for me before I could accept this place as my home. Little by little, my heart began to change. My heart got involved in the place outside of my campus, in a high school. My heart began to walk into the house of people who permanently lived there, not just college kids who were there for four years. My heart began to know how things were run in the town beyond the campus I stepped foot on. And my heart began to break for the world that I saw these people living for, these high school girls in the town beyond my school walls. And my heart began to break for a new home.

            I had began to realize one major thing I was missing: the truth that my home was not on this earth. My home was above, with my God, in a cloud of witnesses watching my every move. And I knew another truth, my home here on earth was temporary wherever I was. And my sense of home, my feeling of belonging, my feeling of purpose, it was shifted. On Sunday night, after moving out Sunday morning, I drove home from a YoungLife event. My heart was at peace. The battle had been settled. I knew where I was going. I was going home. And as I pulled into the driveway, I did not long to be anywhere else but where I was for once. I was home in Newport News, where the Lord has called me to call home for at least the next four years, if not more. Where things will never be like my other home, comfortable and easy. Where things will most likely be challenging, and hard, and new and big, and real. And I’ll be longing for my heavenly home because I know that things will be so much better there, and where I’ll be overwhelmed with joy on a daily basis.            

I know that this home I am in now, in Arlington Virginia, this’ll be my home for good. But, who says I cant have two homes? What about three? It is already written that I am not yet in my eternal home, where everything will be right and perfect. So, I can now have my cake and eat it too. I’ll have my cake at my home in Arlington Virginia. And I’ll eat my cake for 7 months out of the year in my home in Newport News. And one day, my Father will call me to my real home, and I’ll both have my cake and eat it in the same spot every day for the rest of eternity, and the battle will be settled once again. But for now, I’ve got two earthly homes where I lay my head, where I live, where I laugh and where I cry. Part of my heart was left in Newport News as I drove back to Arlington. And I picked up another piece of my heart as walked through the big green door of my house here in Arlington. My heart is spread out, I know that, one piece is in a swampy, beautiful part of southern Virginia, and one piece is in a safe-haven of Northern Virginia, and a bigger piece is above with my God. And I am quite alright with that. 

Rely (on Me) for Life

Everytime I think about last night I get flush and teary eyed. Warm feelings of comfort and purpose flood my body as gosebumps start to rise. Its that feeling where you realize that you were part of something big and real and new. A feeling and memory that I know won’t disappear as soon as something bigger happens, no, this one is sticking with me, or so I would hope.

Last night at school we had Relay for Life. We didn’t have this at my high school so it was all new and exciting for me. And if we’re being honest, to me it seemed like a big pep rally with purpose and the little student government girl in me got giddy at that thought. So, I was pretty pumped, fundraised a bit, which meant sending an email to my mom three days before because I forgot to send it sooner. I viewed the event as an awesome and fun way to raise money, but it pretty much stopped at that. I mean, not saying I wasn’t excited, I just wasn’t thinking that it would impact me, you know?

But boy oh boy, when will I learn that my God, He doesn’t put these things in my life not to mean something and impact me. He doesn’t give me big events and sleepless nights with friends for just “fun.” No, He’s going to show me something big at new things like this, and I’m going to be taken a back to realize how strong and miraculous he really is.

This year, at relay, I was given the divine privilege to walk beside my good friend Sarah. I met Sarah in the beginning of the year, because she was a #commnerd (Communications Studies Major) and was involved in YoungLife and my small group. We hit it off pretty quickly, and pretty quickly after that, she let me into her heart, her past, and her strength. I remember the day I realized how strong this girl was. One of the first days in my Public Speaking class, my teacher was talking about how he had lost his son to cancer and how you never knew what type of battle someone was fighting. Sarah raised her hand proudly and strongly and stated, “ I know where you’re coming from, I lost my mom to cancer five months ago.” What. No. Really? My heart broke for her, what type of pain she must be in, how she goes on after such an obstacle. I wanted to know how she did it. And, after sharing her story at small group, she made it pretty clear… she made it through with Christ and Christ alone. If I hear a stronger testimony than this girl’s, I’ll be wowed just the same. She said when time got rough, she turned to The Word. And when everyone didn’t know what to say, she spoke to the Lord. And when her world was turned upside down when she lost her mother, oh you better believe she knew it was all part of His plan. I can remember sobbing while she was telling this story,  as she sat there calm and collected. I was dumbfounded, her strength rocked my world.

So, when it came time to be at this school event that I was thinking would be another fun hang out, I was proven wrong. I knew I was there to walk with Sarah. And I was going to do it all through the night. My heart was fragile around her, an emotional roller coaster ride just hanging out. She wore a purple caregiver sash over her like many visitors there, except she had different people walking beside her. We prayed for her night with her, asking God to give her peace towards the loss, and thanking Him that we all get to be a part of this with her. And the praise did not stop there.

Then came the opening ceremony. It was announced that as you saw a reason why you were doing the Relay for Life that night come on the jumbo screen, you could get up and walk a lap in remembrance or honor of them. I tapped a couple girls shoulders, suggesting that we should walk it with Sarah. She stood up when it was time, and a handful of girls from this divine community stood up with her. We waited as she hugged Karly (who had shown her strong and powerful heart as well) and we walked, hand in hand, around the track.

And we walked slow, and tight, and we cried. We  cried for our friend Sarah, who has had to go through a nightmare of an experience that we couldn’t even grasp. We cried for her family, who lost the life of a light to this world. We cried with each other because we had the privilege to walk beside such a strong girl. Then, we got to the luminary that read “I’ll like you for always, I’ll love you forever, as long as your living, my mommy you’ll be” with Sarah’s mom’s name written on it. And we cried harder, and huddled around sweet Sarah Ann. We held her as tight as we could, and we held each other. We experienced the reality of this horrible disease called cancer that is killing people close to our heart. We held tight, as others walked around. Two students were on stage singing “It is well with my soul” and the rain had just started to fall, as if God was there with us weeping with us, too. We prayed over the bag, for Sarah’s heart again. We stood there for longer, letting the reality soak in as the rain soaked our jackets. We stepped back, breathed, and shared some laughs and hugs as we walked back to our seats. And, despite this horrible reality and event in Sarah’s life, it is well with her soul. So well that I cant comprehend it. So well that it could not be described as anything than divine strength from the God above.

I had to step back from the moment and PTL when I realized how this community of girls was made to help hold Sarah. Literally and figuratively, I know in my heart, that those girls who held Sarah so tightly last night were meant to be together, in each others story and in Sarah’s story to be a visible representation of how our Father holds us closer than ever when we suffer. That we are each other’s net in life, ready to help each other bounce back from times like those. The community at this school was so present that night. The fact that a ton of college kids were out to support this cause on a freezing, rainy Saturday night towards the end of the semester was uplifting. The intentionality behind conversation walking around the track was amazing. And the fact that this group of girls were so eager to walk with Sarah throughout this time was comforting.

And the notion flooded over me once again, that I am meant to be right where I am. And I was meant to go to Relay for Life on April 9^th and I was meant to walk beside Sarah during this time of strength and dependence. So, a few of us brave ones stayed up all 12 hours of Relay. I did it for my mom, who won against cancer in a record time, and for Sarah’s mom, who has had a huge impact on my story even though I have never met her. And for Sarah Ann, sweet sweet Sarah Ann, whose strength is of the big and beautiful God above, and whose life I hold close to mine. 

Rely (on Me) for Life

Everytime I think about last night I get flush and teary eyed. Warm feelings of comfort and purpose flood my body as gosebumps start to rise. Its that feeling where you realize that you were part of something big and real and new. A feeling and memory that I know won’t disappear as soon as something bigger happens, no, this one is sticking with me, or so I would hope.

Last night at school we had Relay for Life. We didn’t have this at my high school so it was all new and exciting for me. And if we’re being honest, to me it seemed like a big pep rally with purpose and the little student government girl in me got giddy at that thought. So, I was pretty pumped, fundraised a bit, which meant sending an email to my mom three days before because I forgot to send it sooner. I viewed the event as an awesome and fun way to raise money, but it pretty much stopped at that. I mean, not saying I wasn’t excited, I just wasn’t thinking that it would impact me, you know?

But boy oh boy, when will I learn that my God, He doesn’t put these things in my life not to mean something and impact me. He doesn’t give me big events and sleepless nights with friends for just “fun.” No, He’s going to show me something big at new things like this, and I’m going to be taken a back to realize how strong and miraculous he really is.

This year, at relay, I was given the divine privilege to walk beside my good friend Sarah. I met Sarah in the beginning of the year, because she was a #commnerd (Communications Studies Major) and was involved in YoungLife and my small group. We hit it off pretty quickly, and pretty quickly after that, she let me into her heart, her past, and her strength. I remember the day I realized how strong this girl was. One of the first days in my Public Speaking class, my teacher was talking about how he had lost his son to cancer and how you never knew what type of battle someone was fighting. Sarah raised her hand proudly and strongly and stated, “ I know where you’re coming from, I lost my mom to cancer five months ago.” What. No. Really? My heart broke for her, what type of pain she must be in, how she goes on after such an obstacle. I wanted to know how she did it. And, after sharing her story at small group, she made it pretty clear… she made it through with Christ and Christ alone. If I hear a stronger testimony than this girl’s, I’ll be wowed just the same. She said when time got rough, she turned to The Word. And when everyone didn’t know what to say, she spoke to the Lord. And when her world was turned upside down when she lost her mother, oh you better believe she knew it was all part of His plan. I can remember sobbing while she was telling this story,  as she sat there calm and collected. I was dumbfounded, her strength rocked my world.

So, when it came time to be at this school event that I was thinking would be another fun hang out, I was proven wrong. I knew I was there to walk with Sarah. And I was going to do it all through the night. My heart was fragile around her, an emotional roller coaster ride just hanging out. She wore a purple caregiver sash over her like many visitors there, except she had different people walking beside her. We prayed for her night with her, asking God to give her peace towards the loss, and thanking Him that we all get to be a part of this with her. And the praise did not stop there.

Then came the opening ceremony. It was announced that as you saw a reason why you were doing the Relay for Life that night come on the jumbo screen, you could get up and walk a lap in remembrance or honor of them. I tapped a couple girls shoulders, suggesting that we should walk it with Sarah. She stood up when it was time, and a handful of girls from this divine community stood up with her. We waited as she hugged Karly (who had shown her strong and powerful heart as well) and we walked, hand in hand, around the track.

And we walked slow, and tight, and we cried. We  cried for our friend Sarah, who has had to go through a nightmare of an experience that we couldn’t even grasp. We cried for her family, who lost the life of a light to this world. We cried with each other because we had the privilege to walk beside such a strong girl. Then, we got to the luminary that read “I’ll like you for always, I’ll love you forever, as long as your living, my mommy you’ll be” with Sarah’s mom’s name written on it. And we cried harder, and huddled around sweet Sarah Ann. We held her as tight as we could, and we held each other. We experienced the reality of this horrible disease called cancer that is killing people close to our heart. We held tight, as others walked around. Two students were on stage singing “It is well with my soul” and the rain had just started to fall, as if God was there with us weeping with us, too. We prayed over the bag, for Sarah’s heart again. We stood there for longer, letting the reality soak in as the rain soaked our jackets. We stepped back, breathed, and shared some laughs and hugs as we walked back to our seats. And, despite this horrible reality and event in Sarah’s life, it is well with her soul. So well that I cant comprehend it. So well that it could not be described as anything than divine strength from the God above.

I had to step back from the moment and PTL when I realized how this community of girls was made to help hold Sarah. Literally and figuratively, I know in my heart, that those girls who held Sarah so tightly last night were meant to be together, in each others story and in Sarah’s story to be a visible representation of how our Father holds us closer than ever when we suffer. That we are each other’s net in life, ready to help each other bounce back from times like those. The community at this school was so present that night. The fact that a ton of college kids were out to support this cause on a freezing, rainy Saturday night towards the end of the semester was uplifting. The intentionality behind conversation walking around the track was amazing. And the fact that this group of girls were so eager to walk with Sarah throughout this time was comforting.

And the notion flooded over me once again, that I am meant to be right where I am. And I was meant to go to Relay for Life on April 9^th and I was meant to walk beside Sarah during this time of strength and dependence. So, a few of us brave ones stayed up all 12 hours of Relay. I did it for my mom, who won against cancer in a record time, and for Sarah’s mom, who has had a huge impact on my story even though I have never met her. And for Sarah Ann, sweet sweet Sarah Ann, whose strength is of the big and beautiful God above, and whose life I hold close to mine. 

While I'm Waiting

So, as much as time was going slowly while it was happening, I still don’t know where those two weeks went. Well, I mean, I do, but its just crazy to see 14 days gone in such a quick way. I guess its because I am in it now. I am in that part of my life that I slowed down time to ponder over for so long. The part of my life I tried to paint perfectly in my head, the part I decided to white-wash over and choose a different path, that part where God said “no ma’am” and changed the colors on my picture so that it was a color scheme that was good and pleasing to both Him and I.

I’ve never had to wait for something so patiently in my whole life. I wasn’t even this eager to get into the school of my dreams (mostly because I knew it was unrealistic) or this eager to graduate from high school or even this eager to come here, to CNU, to crack open that new chapter of my story. Nope, none of those waits compare to this wait. The wait of what seemed like a century but in reality was actually around 8 months, plus the two years since I decided that this is what was worth waiting for in this world.

July of 2009 is when I decided to start waiting. It was on a hot summer afternoon at Windy Gap when God overwhelmed me with the news that I was made for this and this is what He wants me to do. What is this you ask? This is YoungLife. This is the organization turned my whole world around. This is what I’ve been waiting for.

I knew I wanted to lead coming into school. And if I am going to be frank, I really only looked at schools with solid YoungLife I could see myself in. The deciding factor in my head on why I should come here to CNU is because I got a quick little taste of their YL community and how it works, and my-oh-my how could I not want more than a taste of that sweet sweet thing for the next four years. I googled high schools in the area over the summer, seeing what the dynamics and logistics were. I dreamed of going to camp with a whole new area, having conversations with a whole new set of girls, seeing all new hearts and seeing them be cleared by the greatest Father any daughter could ask for.

And, that day, the day I anxiously awaited since that afternoon in North Carolina, that day oh it came, and it came slower than anything in this world yet. Once it hit, there was no turning back. I had nightmares, I made lists, I made worry-some phone calls, I typed eager texts, I walked through every scenario of where I could be placed because I had absolutely no idea and that scared me to death. Its not that I couldn’t have done well at any school with the strength and tools of the Lord, its just that I didn’t want to be disappointed or upset or anything like that when I finally found out what I had been waiting to find out.

5:30 came through slower than mud. I tried to do everything to distract myself from over thinking and fixating on the news about to come in at 5:30. I tried not to talk about it too much, but we all know, its very hard for Katie not to over think or over talk when she is excited or nervous. That’s just what I do, how I deal. So, 5:00 rolled around and the nervous shakes overwhelmed my body. A few phone calls came in right around 5:30 from some  friends who knew I was on edge and wanted to fool me. Then, the most important phonecall of all, the phonecall that would contain the name of the school I was placed at for the rest of college came in. And I took the news, and I ran with it. And I danced, and leaped, and cried and laughed, shocked at where Joe decided to place me, excited for the new opportunities at the school, and already in love with the team I would be working beside for the next four years.

I walked to the placement BBQ with Autumn, both of us just squealing with excitement that what we had been waiting for was finally here. This was here. And this was good. And this worked out just the way it was supposed to (and this probably could’ve been spared my over-analyzing anxiety freak outs). As we got to the house, my new teammates came running towards me and embraced me with screams and hugs, and I laughed with Joe when he told me that he knew where I was going all along, and my freaking-out-phone-call to him the day before was now amusing, and now all the pre-hype was gone, and now everyone had a place where they were meant to have a place.

So now I’m here, I’ve got what I had waited for for so long. I’ve got a school, with a building, with a student body, with sports teams and clubs, and heartbreak and love. And I’ve got a heart that God has planted this school in long ago, watering the seed that needs to grow in order for me to love this school and these kids like He would love them. And I’ve got a team along side me that has that same heart, and a community of other teams and friends who have the hearts that are meant to build me up and encourage me along this way. I’ve got the tools to do His work here, not because he needs me to, but because I have the privilege to, all because I’ve got Him on my side.

I was told to wait patiently for the Lord and it would be good. Although my waiting included some anxious I don’t want to wait anymore thoughts and emotions, I still waited. I waited for this new chapter to open, and the new, bright white, empty pages that I can see in this chapter are anxiously awaiting new stories and times in which I put my all in the One above and try to make a difference to His creation.  

Ditching the "to-do's"

I feel like I’ve been waiting for a time to sit down and articulate the narrative voice inside my head all week. I probably would’ve had time to do so if I cut back on silly little things I fill my time up with, but I was just going with the flow. And the flow did not want me to sit down and “blog” this week. So, I did that thing again, where I escape and drive. And I’ve found myself in a little Starbucks off the side of the road with a quiet back room that used to be a safe. A safe for a bank that is now a safe place for me to be alone and scribe.

I read in my devotional on Tuesday that if we forget about our tight knit schedules and perfectly aligned days, we can leave gaps for God to enter into our time in more unexpected ways than usual. Its funny to think that I don’t do this, because at this point, I really do nothing that takes up all of my time and energy. Im a college freshman, I’ve got more time than I can ever remember having. But, every day, I plan my day in my head and keep by it unless a mountain is put in my way. So, the super-planning-lets-use-time-logically-24/7 girl in me ditched her plans for two days straight, and my-oh-my was it magical.

As if it wasn’t awesome enough that I am in a place where I have the ability to drop my plans for the day and just go with the flow, the weather in these two days were like magic-shell on top of the ice cream. Perfect.

I woke up with a feeling that is so divine that I couldn’t think hard enough to reiterate it. I was overwhelmed with the truth that this is the day the Lord has made. And I will enjoy it. Because it is His, and it will be good. Very good. I think I spent 80% of this day outside with people. Sitting around or playing stupid games like “nubs”, not caring about any work or obligations, just being with each other like we were made to be. I’de go to class, and then come back outside, to most of the same people mixed with some new faces. We couldn’t not be with each other. The presence of each other and warm air blanketing us was the biggest present I could’ve been given on that day. Sweet, sweet, fellowship and community with these characters in my story is the only thing I would’ve wanted on a day where I decided to ditch my plan.

I couldn’t help but be giddy during these two days. And no, it wasn’t because I got to see one of my top 5 favorite artists, Jimmy Needham, for 5 dollars, in the comfort of my very own school. (Although, I felt a bit like I had Beiber fever during the concert. Or should I say Needham fever.) I was giddy because I was abiding by His plan for my day, not my own silly “I have to be productive” plan. He wants me to be productive, yes, but He also wants to love me by treating me to days like these, where I don’t have to do things I don’t want to, and where I can tangibly see the way He wants me to see things. He wants to hand me days wrapped up in sparkly wrapping paper, topped off with pretty bows, filled with moments that I will desire during the sticky times, and hours that I will want to go by like days.

This realization of mine in these two days are sitting with me in a new way. I have trusted that His plan is the greatest plan on this earth for me, but before, I didn’t realize that I could not be getting the most out of That plan by confining myself to plans of my own. By ditching my school-related to-do list and just being where I am when I am there I was able to let my Big Loving Father write my blessed to-do list. And He, oh He’s a good writer. He’s my writer, and I’ll gladly hand over my lists to Him any day. And it will be good. 

I am where I am

Wahh, I’ve been a bad blogger. Remember how I said I start things and rarely finish them? Exactly what my ‘tude has been about blogging these past few weeks. I’ve got ideas, words, mojo, time, everything that is needed to sit down and produce a aimless cyber story for a few people to read. But, alas, I strayed from completing anything worthwhile, which explains my blogspot hiatus.

Excuses beside, I have had a fantastic past three weeks. Its pretty much been a random roller coaster of days that have combined together to blur into a beautiful “your life is sweet” tune. This is just such an exciting time for me. I mean, I thought senior year was exciting to get to be a big shot and decide what I was going to do with my life. But no, the exciting part is actually being in the rest of my life and realizing that I am made to be right where I am and that the plan always turns out to be so sweet.

Three weekends ago, the little dysfunctional but so loving family of Pennisula YoungLife leaders all traveled up to Richmond for the annual Committee Leader Weekend. From past weekends at the NOVA Committee Leader Weekends, I knew this weekend was guaranteed to be nothing but great, especially with the people beside me this time. Believe it or not, it exceeded my expectations and left my heart bubbling with excitement like a kid at 6am on Christmas morning. Throughout the weekend I was overwhelmed with how blessed I am to be called to be a part of such a cool and meaningful mission. I was blessed when thinking about where I come from, and felt privileged that I have the opportunity to go where I will go. CLW2k11 reaffirmed my calling to be a part of this ministry, and helped me re-lace my big girl shoes and get ready to step out into a new high school.

Appropriately, we got our shadowing placements that Sunday night. A phone call from a very excited shadowee (did I just make that up?) made me feel like I was being “bidded” on for a sorority I have been rushing for oh so long. Despite the fact that I do not know if I will end up at this school or not, I was still super pumped to get to see how they do it. And that first phone call, that was only the beginning to what felt like an always-fun-but-still-crazy pledge week. Early mornings and late nights (due to stupid stinkin’ midterms!) plus the factor that I was blessed with a vicious cold made me walk around campus like a zombie for five days. And I loved it. Waking up at 4:45 on a Wednesday morning for campaigners does not make the typical college student as giddy as it makes me, I am pretty much sure of this. But for me, this was the beginning of the rest of my life *cue cheesy graduation soundtrack* and I was darn-tootin’ excited that it had finally arrived.

After a week of crazy amounts of YoungLife, I ventured back to good old home to be with ma, pa, and my special-needs cat daisy. I couldn’t have been at a happier place for spring break. I stripped all social inhibitions and switched off between vegetating on the couch, making arts and crafts, and being accompanied by a mom who acts like I have just come home from ‘nam every time I enter the house. I chuckled to my home-body self as I had no desire to go somewhere tropical or fun, but had the best time just being by myself or with my parents in a house that has cradled me for 15 years. In that week was a quick trip to Philadelphia, to see some great old friends and be a real life city-slicker for a good two days, a visit from a nomadic Indiana-an girl whose friendship I adore, and a homecoming of many familiar faces before I departed back to bad news. I couldn’t have asked for a better break. Going home always overwhelms me with joy because where I come from, boy, it is great. And I wouldn’t change one thing about it.

So, onto the next week of shadowing at Grafton, capped off by what could be the craziest weekend of the semester, with about 10 non-captain friends visiting. I sure am glad to be back at this fine institution. My drive back was the first drive where I felt ready to be back, where I was excited to make the three hour drive, and where I couldn’t stand to be away from this place any longer. I’m astonished that the year is almost over and that I will never in my life be a pip-squeak freshman again after this year, but I am insanely thankful and blessed to be right where I am, and to be shaped by my God through this place in such surprising and mysterious ways.

I promise I will be better about posting on this, I am going to start to work on my whole I cant finish anything syndrome. For good. 

Quick glimpse of love in a busy coffee shop

I got into my car after class and drove. No major reason in particular except for the fact that I just wanted to drive. And drive by myself. I wanted to go do errands, window shop, do anything solo. I am a raging extrovert but even us people-people desire to be alone sometimes. I wanted to be by myself. Listen to myself think. Wander the isles of target and buy gummy worms to eat by myself. Smell my own smell and be silent outside of the busy campus I spend all my time on. And it is good.

I’m sitting here in a big comfy leather chair, next to a girl who has my same computer, computer case, backpack, phone and phone case. I have no idea who she is but when I asked her if I could sit down she got a huge smile on her face and explained that she was going to leave in a few minutes but by all means I could accompany the empty seat beside her. She pointed out our matching materials and I laughed and agreed and just sat there while she explained that she would be boring because she was doing chemistry. I just sat here, pulled out my computer, and got lost in all 200 of the windows I had left up after class. Did she really want to engage in a real live conversation with me? Why was she being so friendly? She got up and left and turned around before she got to the door, smiled, and said “I hope you have a great day!” and meant it. Wait…What? I seconded that comment and smiled and probably did a stupid wave of some sorts (you wouldn’t expect differently, would you?). She was so sweet to me, a stranger who was just trying to run from people, a divine encounter of undeserved love. Her perky, polite, persistent (triple whammy alliteration… whazzup English class) mannerisms screamed “I’ll love you even if I don’t know you, and even if I’ll know you only for a second.” Now that is something that’s not common to coffee shops at 5:30 on a weekday. Just a little something sweet for my already stellar day. Score. 

Swimming in a pool of grace

I’ve had a lot of time to evaluate things this week. My journaling habits are out of control. I started a new composition notebook (third this school year… sorry I’m not sorry) at the end of January and I am already a quarter of the way in. Last week gave me a lot of time to reflect, as my work-less weeks usually do. But, in a very weird obviously God given way, my school assignments made me reflect the most.

I had to go on a media fast for my Communications 211 class. I had heard of people doing this before, but I didn’t know when or how I would have to do it. We were given about three weeks to do the assignment, but in typical Randazzo fashion I forgot about it until three days before it was due. Technically, the media fast was supposed to follow a media feast, but I consider most days a media feast, so I didn’t set aside time to do that (aka I forgot). Back to the storyline, I had to give up pretty much all entertainment and social networking for 48 hours. This probably sounds like child’s play to some people, but to me, it was a daunting task I wanted to go by very quickly. I put up self control (an application that can block websites when you have no self control not to go on them) for the longest it could go, which was 24 hours at the time. I turned internet off on my phone. I put my ipod in my desk drawer and shut my computer completely down.

 Disclaimer: we were supposed to not text, too, but I’m a rebel without a cause and didn’t give that up. However, I strayed away from texting people unless they texted me first or I wanted to meet them somewhere.

The night before, I got a tiny bit excited. This will give me more time to concentrate on reading, or writing letters, or meeting with different people face to face. However, when morning hit and the media had to cease, my world was very silent. And I, Katie Randazzo, hate silence (incase you didn’t know that). The only time I like silence is when I am reading or writing for school. And in that silence came loneliness, a longing to talk to my friends from home who are spread all over this map, and a desire to dance (daily desire lets be honest) to loud music in my room by myself. But, I couldn’t do that, I wasn’t going to break this, because I’ve never been challenged to follow the rules in such an annoying way.

Although my world was very quiet in those two days, I was so distracted. My mind was wondering what was going on in the cyber-world, who’s status I would be liking, what blog post I would be reading, how I was supposed to tweet that quick comment on what was going on around me. All such stupid and miniscule actions compared to the bigger story. But, its something that was there and that was taking me away from being fully where I was.

I became so distracted that it annoyed me, and I prayed for silence. Somewhat ironic that I was distracted since it was silence that was causing my mind to go all over the place, but I knew that’s what I needed.

Then, two hours before the final bell of the 48 hours that felt like 2 weeks, my mind and heart were silenced. Clearly, it was the Big Man upstairs showing me a heavy dose of undeserved grace. I had become distracted in such a materialistic and worldly way. It was just a little “heads up Katie, I’m bigger than that, and anything else, and I want you to know that always.” I was overwhelmed with joy and content-ness at the end of the 48 hours, humbled by a Father who yanks me back into his big loving hands even when I don’t realize I need to be yanked back.

That night was one of the funniest nights at school, as a small group of us (Willie Mears, here is your shout out) sat around in a garage, went to waffle house, and stayed out too late for the old lady in me to function. I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in a long time, and even successfully got the whole table to participate in my favorite nighttime discussion: top 3 things (sharing the top three things of your day… I’m a nut for those highs and lows sorts of thing).

I was surrounded by people who loved me well because they were loved well first. My heart was amazed at how continually blessed my days are, and surprised at how much a stupid school assignment effected my story. I am literally swimming in a daily pool of grace, even when I don’t personally think I need to do water aerobics that day. Daily washed clean by a God who knows me better than I know myself, and knows what it takes to see him in my daily movements. 

A New Scene

This week was… simple, to say the least. I am pretty positive I still haven’t done really any academic work since Monday, which is probably not a good thing. I am still just spending time slowing down, which is necessary. Life will speed back up again, I am just going to enjoy the jog until it does. Nothing was really going on all week, so it made for a good week to just be intentional with those around me. I dig that I am in a community and atmosphere that allows me to do that.

Thursdays are always my favorite day, but this one was special in new ways. No, it was not just because of the theme meal, which unfortunately didn’t meet many expectations, or the fact that I got my summer staff assignment email. Thursday was special because we branded it; we did something to give it a new name in our stories.

The three of us sat there, thinking of something to do. Of course, we couldn’t figure anything out, and were scared of venturing into the cold anyways, so we decided we would just stay in and not do anything. The silence didn’t last long until a friend shared her heart with us. She shared the significance of the day in her story. How many memories it brought back, why the day was so significant, and the expectations that the day didn’t meet. She laid her heart out for us to see. An undeserved glimpse into a broken story that is being restored. We sat there, silence between us, tears in our eyes, because nothing was going to pave over the rocky story we had just heard. I couldn’t sit still. We had to do something.

I read in Donald Miller’s A Million Miles in a Thousand Years (2^nd best book ever, read it if you know what’s good for you) about a friend of Donald’s, Bob, who makes memorable scenes in his story by doing things that will brand the day. I am all about that idea, and I am even more about celebrating loved ones lives well. So, the idea hit me.

“Get into warm clothes. We’re going somewhere.” The three of us dropped everything, layered up, called a few friends who weren’t with us, and briskly fleeted to the car. We picked up the other friends and headed towards the ocean. It was 11:30, we had 30 minutes to make it to the beach and still have it be February 3^rd. The drive takes about an hour, there wasn’t any physical way we would make it, but we sure acted like we could (Mom, if you’re reading this, don’t worry, I didn’t speed. I am your safe daughter.).

The car ride was beautiful. We listened to music, but most of the time, we turned it down. We celebrated life together, despite how tired we were getting. We celebrated my friends life by affirming why she means so much to us. We laughed, we sang, we danced, we got lost in the ghetto, we did everything that makes us feel human. We finally arrived to a deserted Virginia Beach, even more deserted than it usually is. It was about 12:15, but in our books, it was still February 3^rd. I parked the car and we all got out, blanket in hand, with no plan but just to be there. As soon as our feet hit the sand, we ran. We ran in circles, screamed, laughed, jumped and ran towards the water.

We stood there in the freezing wind, and watched the fine line between the sky and the ocean at night. We felt small. We felt real. We felt beautiful. We huddled up, under blankets, and prayed to thank God for the beautiful life of our friend. We agreed and thanked Him for the big plans he has for her, and how much she has impacted our story. We cried, we laughed, we hugged. We talked about the bigger plan, and how we were all here for that.  We felt real. We were real.

We stood there for a little while longer, then got back into the car. On the way back, we couldn’t steer conversation far from the night, how glad we were that we had gotten up and done that, and how much things like that mean to us. Celebrating friends lives, all the nasty stuff that stinks to bring up, and all the joy in new hope were the themes of the scene. All of us were there, with separate stories, intertwined in the last year, with scenes waiting to be made memorable. We branded the day with fresh joy, so we could always look back and remember why February 3^rd means so much to us. We weren’t going to remember it by just doing something ordinary.

Donald Miller once said “A good movie has memorable scenes, and so does a good life.” That’s what I want. Scenes in my story that are going to be symbolic, unusual, real, and memorable, and sometimes, you just have to drive to the edge of the earth to make them that way. 

Content

Oops Notice: I guess I should’ve posted this last week, when I wrote it, but instead I am posting it now. I am bad at finishing things I start, which is why this post was saved in a word document rather than posted to the blog. Nonetheless, it is here, for you to enjoy if you please.

Here I am, broken down by the forces of social media once again. I’ve been saying, “I’m going to start blogging” like people say, “I’m going to work out” after the New Year for quite some time now. I figure I should put my big girl pants on and just do it, especially after the amount of blog posts from other people I have been reading lately. So here goes nothing, sucked into the cyber world once again, I will fill these blank pages with a majority of rambling, because the truly insightful stuff goes in a composition notebook I keep close to my heart.

This week has been like a couch in a warm living room. I don’t know why I was given such a beautiful week. It was undeserved, seeing as though I didn’t have a terribly bad week last week, or the week before. It was just handed to me, for me to rest and enjoy, by a beautiful and big God who enjoys watching me have time to be still and take in His story.

 I could tell this week was going to be stellar, after a particularly good weekend, and a very sweet conversation Sunday night with three beautiful friends. What did we talk about? None other than beauty. We chatted, shared, smiled, and hurt about how we are beautiful brides of God, and sometimes the world just doesn’t make us feel like that. The conversation between these girls was a blessing, even the silence, because it was so clear how we have been written into each other’s stories.

Side note: beautiful is my all time favorite word. I think it’s a packed word, packed of emotion, vividness, the unseen, and love. I overuse the word beautiful, it isn’t used enough, and maybe I am oversimplifying the complexity of the word, but in my eyes, it should be given more of an appearance. 

Anyways, this week I have felt beauty in my heart continuously. No, not just looking in the mirror and saying “dang, that girl is beautiful” or “oh, look at the beautiful sunset.” Peace, beauty, grace, all of those warm words that joyfully fill our hearts when things are going the right way. I think its because I’ve been given time. This semester, I have at least 2 hours between all of my classes, which is different from my “blocked” schedule of last year. And, maybe just because its winter and I enjoy hibernating, but I like it so much more this way. I’ve been getting so much more breathing time and space this semester. I like sitting on my bed or at my desk in my room, surrounded by notes, pictures, quotes, verses, a vivid scrapbook for a room.

One day this week, Newport News supirised us with some abnormal weather. Not. It was a sheet of white in the sky, spit-rain, and cold wind. Im beginning to see the beauty in this awful weather, only because its what I am getting comfortable with, but in the moment, it keeps me cooped up. So, after spending three hours in The Commons cafeteria, I decided it was time to stay in my dorm for the rest of the day. And, because the weather took away my sky, I made my own stars. A little bit of beauty in the dreary day. These stars, hanging from Mary and I’s walls with the words “faith, hope, and joy” in between them, serve as a little blessing, and a little reminder that when the world takes away my stars, I have to make new ones. It’s the simple things, really. 

This week, and new semester, my heart has felt very content. I guess I am just at one of those real sweet spots in my story, the kind you hope for while you struggle and never want to leave while you’re in it. Im still learning, growing, and struggling, but the big man upstairs is giving me some time to walk. Its nice and I like it, but I am ready to climb the next mountain.